Just Once, Just For Pretend
by sbrianson
Summary: Draco reflects on love, prejudice, what he wants from life and how he'll never live up to his father's shadow. Angst and slashy goodness.


Just Once… Just For Pretend…

Rating: R

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.

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"_Yes, Draco. You must be _very_ satisfied with that result. I would shake your hand, but it is difficult to do that by proxy of ovine messengers, as I'm sure you appreciate. Since I cannot do that, it can wait until your return to the mansion at Christmas._

_But Draco, I cannot stress enough just how busy I am at the moment. _The Boss_ is giving me more and more work to do. I barely had time to even sit down and dictate this little note to you. I am sure that your school grades can wait a few weeks until Christmas, eh?_

_Take care of yourself, and Mother and I will see you at the school holidays._

_Father _"

Just that. No kisses, no friendly words of admiration, not even his handwriting. He didn't even bother to sign his name this time. Just another cold, clinical note from Father about my "Outstanding" Potions test result, in the house-elf's neat but completely detached handwriting. He could have at least made the effort to write his letter _himself_, couldn't he? Is that too much to ask? But then, did I _really_ expect any more than that? Well, I had _hoped_ for it, but I suppose I'm lucky even to have gotten what I did. After all, Father's busy. Far to busy to be wasting his precious fucking time with such matters as congratulating his only son and Heir on his good marks. Sometimes I wonder why the Hell I even bother writing home.

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother doing well in school at all – if you can call "Potions marks" a round indication of my schoolwork. What's the use? It's not as if I'm ever likely to emerge out from deep within Father's glorious shadow, am I? Not even if the old bastard kicks the bucket. Oh, Merlin, think about that! It'd all get worse! It won't be Father's shadow that I'm in, it'll be his _memory_, a memory that I'll never be good enough to outshine, and I'll be relegated to the rank of Constant-Reminder-That-Lucius-Was-Perfect-In-Every-Way-nd-Draco-Will-Never-Ever-Match-Up! Look at me! Thinking what it would be like if Father died. Merlin! Don't get me wrong, I don't want that at all. Not just because my life would get even more unbearable, but because I really do love Father. Mother too.

Everyone thinks I come from a wonderful home. A mother who dotes over me and a father who would give me every _thing_ I want and desire. But I never get what I want. I never get _love_. Well… I probably _do_… I think. I think the love is there, but everyone back in the mansion is so fucking _cold_. Nobody _ever_ shows their _feelings_. Oh, no! It would be simply _dreadful_ if the Malfoys did that! The end of the world! Civilisation itself as we know it would grind to a bloody halt!

Nobody ever shows their feelings. Not even a pat on the back every now and again, never mind a – shock! horror! – a _hug_! The best I can hope for on _that_ front is the perfunctory handshake I get from Father if I do something _really_ great, like pass all of my exams, or get a piece of work graded "O" or something. I mean, the odd embrace from one of my loving parents every now and again. Is that _really_ so much to ask for? Is it really?

What would I have to do to get Father to hug me? Become a Death Eater? Kill that fucking bitch Granger just because she's a mudblood? Fuck it, kill Potter!

Is it such a bad thing to crave love and affection? I get no physical attention from my family, and there are only so many times that you can make love to your left hand, cos it feels like someone else is doing it, before it becomes a futile exercise. So, naturally, the next step to take is to get a girlfriend or boyfriend to get close to. Ah! There's another huge difference between my parents and me! Mother is so bigoted and self-centred, that anything that strays from the norm of her perfect little world is disgusting, unnatural and_ not to be tolerated_. She thinks that every homosexual on the planet should be put under the cruciatus curse because their minds are filthy and warped. Father at least is marginally more liberal – he thinks that they should just be subjected to the avada kedavra curse and be done with it. I personally think that people should fall in love and sleep with whomsoever they choose, be it man, woman, cat or dog.

Strange, that, coming from the person who seems to be the most bigoted bastard in the country. But I diverge from Mother and Father's views and values only in just that one aspect. And of course I'm bigoted. Understandable, really, if you think of who brought me up. Beside nannies and nurses, anyway. It'd be fucking hard _not_ to be. You think I'm bad – wait 'till you meet Father's _boss_! Okay, he's got some good values and viewpoints, but Merlin! Even _I_ think he goes just a little _too far_.

Sadly, some would probably say, all of Mother and Father's other prejudices got engraved on my skull and drummed into me before I could read or write. But don't think for a bloody _minute_ that I'm gonna fucking apologise for being who I am. Right? Right!

I'm not very good with girls. I just feel nothing for them, or around them, absolutely nothing. But I'm not a virgin. No, Crabbe and Goyle took care of _that_ for me. Crabbe was the easiest – he's so fucking stupid! Merlin, I swear he's got the IQ of a bowl of porridge! But I still reel from how bloody _easy _it was. I just told him to drop his trousers and bend over, and hey presto! _Boy_ _becomes_ _man_!

I remember being back in the mansion last summer. Crabbe's father was round, chatting to Father about "business". He turned to me, in front of my parents, and openly asked if I'd lost my virginity yet. Imagine that! Talk about a prize bloody prat! Well, turning bright red I answered in the affirmative. At that, Mr Crabbe guffawed heartily and told me

"Excellent! The sign of a great man is that, having sex at your age!" I laughed along with the big cretin, but secretly thought would he be so pleased if he knew that I'd lost my innocence with his son?

Goyle was trickier, he didn't want to do it at all.

"But Malfoy, I'm not in love with you!" he tried as an excuse. He relented after I told him that we weren't making love, we were just fucking. But still he was so unresponsive, lying there on the bed, legs over my shoulders and thinking of England or whatever the fuck he thinks about during such situations, and after I'd had my way he asked me in a teary, ashamed voice, "Can I go now?"

That really touched a nerve, because it reminded me of myself. I'd only had sex with him so I could say that I'd had more than one partner, just because Father had done so when he was my age. I never wanted to even lose my virginity yet anyway. Just like Goyle, I wanted that to have happened with someone I was in love with. Taking advantage of someone means nothing, and isn't that the whole point of the exercise? To be as close as possible to someone? Fucking is all very well, but I don't want it. I want to make love with someone. To have it really _mean_ something. Y'know? Even if it's not reciprocated. Then at least I can _pretend_ that it means something. Just for a few minutes. Is _that_ too much to ask for?

Just once, I want it to be the _other_ way round. You know. I just want to be able to look up at someone I really care about, ask him to love me, and he _will_. Even if he doesn't mean it. That doesn't matter to me, because at least he'll mean every stroke _in my imagination_. He'll love me… yes, and I'll love him. Just for a few minutes, but he'll love me and I'll love him.

Is _that_ really too much to ask for?

All I ask for is just… just to be loved. Not even that.

All I want is just to _feel_ loved…

Just _once_…

Just for pretend…


End file.
